Variables
by SciFiDVM
Summary: Sequel to Constant. Six months later the nanites resurrect Bass to help them fight a new enemy and task Charlie with making sure that he lives up to the potential they see in him. Eventual Charloe.
1. Prologue

**Cross-posted from AO3 (as usual). I almost view this as a spin off of Revolution, as Bass and Charlie take on new roles facing a new (and markedly more science fiction-y) menace. I guess you could figure out what's going on here without having read Constant, but I wouldn't really advise it. It's going to be a little different from my normal writing fare, I suppose. Hope you like it.**

After that fateful day on the bridge, the next few months were spent mopping up the last resilient Patriot footholds. But with their plots foiled and their true nature exposed, California and Texas both eagerly joined in the hunt. Less than three months after Bass's sacrifice, the khaki stain on American history had been entirely expunged.

The nanites had started as a problem, but something about the sudden success of the resistance movement seemed to make them find new faith in their creators. As if the desire to end the fighting was a twist they hadn't anticipated. They'd returned Priscilla's control of her body in short order and seemed to have taken the role of a silent observer once again. They didn't restore the power, but they no longer interfered in people's day to day lives. For all they could tell, the nanotech's experiments and attempts at playing God had ceased.

The populace in general and the extended Matheson family itself did their best to settle down. It was easier for some than for others. Charlie in particular seemed to feel antsy and restless all the time, like another storm was coming, the mounting clouds just beyond the horizon. Everyone else chalked it up to the fact that she'd spent most of her adult life now fighting, and assumed it would just take her time to relax and adapt to the new way of life. Everyone, that is, except Aaron. He refused to ever mention it to another living soul, but he knew Charlie was right. Somehow he could just feel a new threat looming in the distance. He didn't know how he knew, but he could tell. The nano were scared. In all their experimentation and their rage, they'd either done something or they'd found something. Either way, Aaron doubted that their decision to regroup and take the past six months off were a coincidence. They'd made a tactical retreat, and he could only quake in his own personal horror at what they might be cooking up as a defensive weapon to use against something that scared an omnipotent technology that could cause anything with molecules to spontaneously combust at will. He just hoped that it was something he'd never have to encounter the likes of.

…..

One night, on the side of a west Texan hill and next to a deep gorge that not long ago been spanned by an enormous train trestle, a small swarm of green fireflies danced near the tree line.

A pair of eyes slowly blinked open and took a moment to adjust to fading dusk light and the shifting glow of the insect swarm. Just as the world above stopped spinning in a horribly disorienting fashion, the bulk of the green fireflies seemed to suddenly dart away. Curious eyes watched as a red firefly buzzed in a slow advance. As it approached, a number of the green fireflies reappeared and seemed to be attempting to block the crimson bug's path. Without even slowing down, the red firefly bore straight through the small cluster in its way, and the green fireflies instantly lost their glow and dropped dead to the dusty Texas ground. Unimpeded, the red firefly reached its target and settled on the section of artificially pigmented flesh exposed on the extremity of the newly woken figure. The red bug was studied momentarily, before a hand quickly smacked against flesh and crushed the glowing insect.

"The fuck?" Bass murmured, still slightly disoriented as he flicked the smashed firefly carcass from where it had landed on his encircled M tattoo, which had now somehow returned to his left forearm. Then he began swatting at the drove of green fireflies that had appeared at his side as soon as the red one had been squashed. They seemed to be inspecting the carcass where he'd flicked it a few feet away.

"They come in different colors now? How long have I been out, and what have Beardy McGee and his sexbot girlfriend been up to?" Bass talked to himself and shook his head, trying to get orientated. "Aww dammit. And who took my clothes? Miles! Are you out there? This isn't funny, man." As he stood and looked around fruitlessly for his clothes, Bass couldn't help but notice the little swarm of green fireflies following him.

"What do you want?" Bass posed the question angrily to the glowing bugs that he knew represented the nanotech. He spun instantly when he heard an unexpected voice from the trees behind him.

"I think they want our help. Well, yours at least."

Charlie stepped forward out of the shadows and tossed him a pair of jeans.

"What makes you think that?" He questioned as he pulled on the jeans that seemed a bit too tight and a few inches too long. They must be Miles's, he reasoned. He wondered why, if she'd taken the time to bring him pants, she hadn't thought to actually bring his. He also wondered why it wasn't weirder between them that she'd just walked up on him naked. Though that seemed to be the least important question at the moment.

"Because they told me to come out here to meet you. And to bring pants…" She shook her head slightly at the last part.

"And that's a big deal because?" Bass questioned.

"Because you've been dead for six months."


	2. Willoughby 10 miles

"_Because you've been dead for six months."_

That had not been the answer he'd expected. Bass searched his memory for some recollection of a potentially fatal event. He couldn't remember exactly how he'd ended up naked on the side of a hill, but if he was going to be honest with himself, this wasn't the weirdest place he'd ever woken up naked with no memory of how he'd gotten there. Though usually those situations also involved a merciless hangover and a naked woman… or two. Here he had neither. He found that unnerving, and worried that it meant that Charlie's claim could somehow be true. But it couldn't be true because here he was, alive and well. Though he couldn't very well explain how the burnt tissue on his forearm had healed and turned back into his distinctive tattoo. And as he ran through a mental inventory, he realized that a few other scars were gone as well. So too was the blind spot at the edge of his peripheral vision and the arthritis in his right knee. As weird as it was, he felt good. How could he have died and ended up feeling better?

Charlie could tell that Bass seemed to be having trouble with the bomb she'd just dropped on him. She knew he'd need more details if he was going to accept what happened, but the last thing she wanted was to relive those last gut wrenching moments as he'd said his goodbyes and walked off to his death. At their worst, he'd been her arch nemesis, the cause of the most horrific tragedies in her life and the focus of her deepest loathing. Somehow that had changed since she'd hunted him down in New Vegas, but even at their best they weren't what anyone would have considered friends. They had tolerated each other, developed a begrudging respect even. It hadn't seemed like more than that until those last two days leading up to her having to stand there and helplessly watch it all slip away through her fingers like so much sand.

"Six months? You sure about that?" He asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

"Give or take a few days." Charlie offered. Really? The amount of time that he'd been dead bothered him more than the mere fact that he'd been resurrected?

"'Cause from what I hear, the nanotech brought Aaron back in a couple hours and took care of that girl he was with almost instantly when that creepy mad scientist went all Mengele on them. Why'd it take them six months to bring me back?" He sounded a little insulted.

"My guess is that they were having trouble finding all the pieces." Charlie shrugged.

"Excuse me? Pieces?" His voice had become unnecessarily menacing.

Charlie sighed. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He thought for a moment, obviously digging through his memory, or whatever was left of it. "We realized that the Patriots were about to gas Willoughby. Miles and I put Neville down for the count after he drew on you, and then we all started off to go save the day." The last bit came out sounding a tad sarcastic.

"You're missing about two days." She informed him. "At the end, you got hit in the chest by a stray bullet while we were trying to stop a train from crossing the bridge that used to be right there." She pointed at the gaping crag to his left. "You knew you weren't gonna make it and we had no other way to stop the train. You blew the bridge with a couple of grenades right in the middle."

He looked across the gorge to the other side, so very far away. "There's no way I could have thought I'd be able to get off that bridge. Why would I have risked that?"

"You knew you wouldn't make it." She looked into his eyes, seeing the confusion and a certain hardness in them. He really didn't remember the last two days of his life or everything that had changed in that time. "You sacrificed yourself to save us, to save everyone."

"Yeah. That doesn't really sound like me. Don't think anyone, especially not one of you lot, has ever accused me of being the hero type."

"Things… changed for you in those last couple days." She offered ambiguously.

"Well, you're gonna have to tell me about that some time. But right now, I'm kinda done standing around in the open half naked. How about we head back to wherever you all are holed up, and let Miles decide where the fuck we're going from here."

"I can't do that." She said flatly.

"Well I'm pretty sure that you can. Just take me to Miles, Charlie." He couldn't remember the last two days of his life, but he sure as hell could remember those days that followed the ones he'd spent tied up with her in an empty swimming pool. It was like de ja vu all over again.

"It's the nano." Charlie tried to explain. "I don't know how I know, but it's like the same way I knew to show up here tonight. They don't want anyone else to know that you're back."

"Yeah, well, the nano can go fuck themselves." He growled.

"Bass, I wouldn't…" Charlie warned.

The swarm of fireflies had returned and were hovering just behind him. When he turned abruptly and ended up with them in his face, he swatted at them. Then there was a flash of bright green light that knocked Bass back a few feet and landed him flat on his back. He opened his eyes and winced. Charlie was standing above him, looking down at him with an "I told you so" evident in her smirk.

"Since when have you called me Bass?" He groaned from the ground as she extended a hand to help him up. He took the offered hand with a small amount of disdain at needing the assistance.

"You really don't remember any of it, do you?" She said, her voice sad. "Those whole two days… that night… the night you and I… when we…" she dropped her hands protectively to her lower abdomen.

His eyes looked huge and terrified as she went on. Just before he looked like he was about to pass out, she let a smile tug at her lips. "Gotcha!"

Gulping down a few large relieved breaths, he panted "That wasn't funny, Charlotte."

"Your face _was_ pretty funny just then." She smiled at him and started leading the way back towards Willoughby.

He began to follow her, well aware that the small cloud of fireflies was trailing behind him. "Well, your face is always funny looking." He jabbed teasingly. He was rewarded with a notable shock hitting him in the ass. "What the fuck!" He turned and started futilely swinging at the fireflies.

"I don't think they like it when we fight." Charlie surmised.

"That wasn't fighting!" He exclaimed towards the bugs. "That was me being a sarcastic ass hole. Big difference. Figure it out, because it's gonna happen a lot, and if you can't handle that, you might as well put me back in the ground you god damned glow-y termites."

"Probably shouldn't tempt them." Charlie smiled at him. He sneered back.

They walked on in silence for a while and the fireflies eventually trailed off.

"So are you ever going to tell me what actually happened during those two days that suddenly turned me into one of the freaking Avengers?"

"Not tonight." Charlie answered without turning around. "You've already got enough to deal with for one night. And who knows, maybe some of it will come back to you on your own."

"But at least tell me that you were joking about everything before. We didn't…"

"Seriously? That's what you're hung up on? I tell you that the nanotech brought you back from the dead after six months because they need your help, and you're just trying to remember if we banged one out in the forty-eight hours you can't remember before you died?"

"Yes?"

"What is wrong with you?" She shook her head. "I'm starting to think that when the nanites put you back together, there were a couple of pieces of your brain that they couldn't find and got left out."

"And you're deflecting the question."

"Deflect this, asshole. No. We did not have sex before you died. Why would you even think that was an option?"

"When you showed up earlier, you didn't seem particularly surprised to see me naked."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "It wasn't that surprising. I figured that the nanites didn't tell me to bring you clothes because you were gonna want wardrobe options after being resurrected. And let's be honest, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You've seen one naked Monroe, you've pretty much seen 'em all."

He deflated a bit at that. She managed to bruise his ego and remind him of the time he found her and his son together in one fell swoop. "How is Connor?" He asked almost reluctantly.

"He's hanging in there." She offered honestly. "Had a bit of a rough time at first. I think he was equal parts pissed at you for dying and leaving him without the Republic, and just plain lonely. Miles has been keeping an eye on him. There's still some resentment there on Connor's part, but he's coming around."

Bass nodded silently. He hesitated, but he couldn't not ask. "And Miles?"

Charlie smiled. "He's good. Real good even."

Bass forced a smile, but couldn't hide that fact that he seemed a little hurt.

"Don't get me wrong," Charlie corrected. "He misses you all the time, but it's different. He tells stories about all the stupid stunts you guys used to pull when you were kids and stuff like that. It's good memories. And he made sure that everyone knew what really happened on that bridge, that you saved the entire country. He's proud of you."

Bass was more than a little surprised at her candor. Something must have happened if she was willing to talk with him like this and to have caused such a change in his rocky relationship with his once best friend.

She continued, "And I think the quiet life actually suits him. I'd thought for sure that he'd go nuts with no one to fight, but he and Mom have kind of just settled down. They all seem… content."

He picked up on the slight undertones of jealousy in that last sentence and the fact that she'd said "they" and not "we". He wanted to know why it was that she wasn't happy and content like the rest of her family, but found another part of her statement to be more important at the moment. "What do you mean, 'no one to fight'?"

"Oh yeah. We won. The Patriots are gone." She added as if she were describing the weather.

"How the hell did that happen in just six months?"

"Miles was right. Stopping that train took their legs out from under them. Once California and Texas realized that they were being played, everybody united and they didn't stand a chance."

"Wait, you mean the train that I…" He looked at her disbelievingly.

"That's right." Charlie smiled at him. "You've gone down in the history books as the bona fide hero that started the beginning of the end for the Patriots. We told them all the truth about Randall and the nukes, and this time they believed us. Carver officially pardoned you and everything. Posthumously, of course."

"Well that's something, I guess." Bass seemed a little overwhelmed.

Charlie took the hint and quieted. They walked together in a comfortable silence for the next couple hours.

They were ambling, side by side down the all too familiar once black-topped road that lead into Willoughby when Bass spotted it. He snorted as the little green sign with white lettering came into view.

Willoughby  
10 Miles

"I know, right?" Charlie spared a sideways glance and a smile at him. She knew exactly what had caught his eye.

"How many times have you and I trekked past this thing now?" He almost laughed.

"I've honestly lost count." She said with a smile.

He couldn't help but realize how drastically different their situation was this time as they passed the sign than on the previous occasions. The first time they'd neared Willoughby he was still half afraid that she'd stab him to death in his sleep at night. Now they were… What were they? He couldn't remember two apparently very important days in their history, but obviously they had been enough to leave them as friends of some sort. He wasn't going to complain. He'd never had any reason to dislike the girl, beyond her trying to kill him. Though that was relatively justified, so he didn't hold it against her. He'd actually admired her in some respects from the first time he'd laid eyes on her in Philadelphia. After working together the past fall, he'd even developed a pretty decent respect for her. She could fight, and not just "for a girl". She'd also saved his ass from certain death twice, at the pointy end of a needle wielded by her grandfather once and again in that cage in New Vegas. He'd always managed to find some form of convenient truce with her more easily than any of the others when needed. They just seemed to understand where the other was coming from a little more easily than with the others. So now it wasn't that surprising that things had somehow gone to the next level. He didn't feel like it was going out very far on a limb to say that they were friends at this point. The sensation was relatively foreign to him, but not unwelcomed. She was enough her uncle's niece to make it somewhat familiar. At the end of the day, if the nanites had decided that he was going to be brought back to be their Dark Knight, they could have certainly picked a worse Robin.


	3. Home

Charlie had led them to a small house about a mile outside the northern gates of Willoughby. Bass silently followed as she entered the house and went about lighting a few lamps. She made her way through the house with complete ease in the total darkness, and Bass realized that she must have been staying in the new place for a while now.

"Surprised you're not staying back in town at casa de Matheson." Bass threw out thoughtlessly once there was enough light in the living room to see by. He made his way over to the couch and plopped down, not taking his eyes off Charlie as he rubbed his feet. He really wished the nano had also told her to bring footwear if they were going to have to walk twenty miles.

Charlie stopped her errant straightening at his remark. She hadn't exactly been expecting a house guest and she wasn't what anyone would call a clean freak by any stretch. She was mostly just glad that she hadn't had any underwear lying around in plain view when the nano had sent her on the emergency mission to retrieve their new ally. She leaned against the doorframe that separated the living room from the kitchen and regarded him as he made himself at home on her couch. "After everything, I… I needed some space."

"Miles and your mom aren't exactly quiet…" Bass shrugged knowingly.

Sure, that had been part of Charlie's reason for getting her own place. There were some other important factors, but right now she wondered what would possess the man on her couch to throw out that assumption.

Seeing her confused look, Bass smiled. "You know this isn't anything new, right? I've had the privilege of being stuck down the hall or in the adjacent hotel room from those two since before you were born."

"Good to know some things never change." She said it somewhat sarcastically and returned an understanding shrug.

She watched him as he surveyed his surroundings. He seemed more at ease than she could ever remember seeing him. She wondered if it was some influence of the nano tech that made him relax or if he was recognizing the dwelling. Yes, when she had decided to move out on her own she had taken up residence in the safe house where they had brought Bass to recover from his not entirely lethal injection. It wasn't out of any sentimental reason, she reminded herself. They had picked the house as their safe house for good reason – location, defensibility, structural integrity, working hand pump in the back. Good vacant houses were becoming a hot commodity after the defeat of the Patriots. Charlie had simply reclaimed what her family had already set up. She had cleaned it out, got some new furniture, and tried to make it her own. Despite the growing unrest she'd felt ever since their defeat of the Patriots and the disappearance of the nano, she had tried to convince herself to settle down and make her home here. Ever since she'd abandoned her lunch box of post cards en route to Philadelphia, she was not one to collect a lot of sentimental clutter, but she thought she'd done a good enough job of making the house a home. That was until the last time Miles stopped by a few weeks earlier and commented that the place looked like a frat boy's dorm, just without all the nude girly posters. She wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but she could guess by the context that she wouldn't be a candidate for one of those old Better Homes and Gardens magazines from before the blackout that were still lying around some of the shops in town.

"You tired?" Charlie asked. "Still an hour or two until sunrise if you want to rest for a while."

The truth was, she was tired, and not just from the round trip forty mile of walking she'd done in the past day. Her brain needed to process what had just happened, and she was far too shocked and conflicted in her emotions for that to happen with her awake.

Again Bass shrugged. "Yeah. I could probably sleep for a bit."

"Blanket's in the closet by the door. Out house is out back just past the pump." She tried to make it sound casual, like she frequently entertained house guests. She also tried to ignore the weird awkwardness that she felt pooling in her gut since he had seemed to happily accept their new odd scenario. She remembered how pissed and petty he'd been after Duncan had awarded her the mercenaries instead of him in New Vegas. Now the nano put her in charge of looking after him and he seemed to be completely ok with that. It was unsettling. He supposedly didn't remember their last two days together, during which their sketchy truce had become an actual friendship, yet he was acting like he remembered it all and they'd spent the last six months as trusted friends. She didn't know what to make of it.

He just nodded at her.

"I'm gonna turn in then." She nearly stammered as she turned to the other door off the living room, the one that led to the cottage's single bedroom.

"Goodnight Charlotte." His voice seemed sincere, which only made Charlie feel more uncomfortable.

"Night Monroe." She'd resorted to using his surname in an effort to force some distance between them. The exchange reminded her of one of their first nights begrudgingly traveling together from the Plains to Willoughby, but the tone was all wrong. He was just being too accepting and too congenial. And he was entirely too alive and in her house.

Charlie carried one of the lanterns with her to her room, closing the door behind her. She pulled off her boots and jeans, and swapped her tank top for an oversized t shirt before crawling into bed. She stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes as she listened to the sounds of the closet door squealing on its hinges as he retrieved the spare bedding and the creaking of old springs as he settled back onto the rickety couch. Then she blew out the lantern and tried to force her mind to rest, and to forget that the man whose death she had mourned deeply but silently for the last one hundred eighty-two days was currently a few yards away on her couch.

…..

Bass hadn't actually been tired, which he found surprising. He'd wondered if it was some kind of side effect of his resurrection. The nano tech had wanted his help and found it feasible to reanimate him. Had they also slipped in some upgrades while they were at it? They had messed with his scars and cleared up some of his arthritis. It wasn't too far outside the realm of possibilities to imagine that maybe they'd jacked him up to where he no longer needed sleep.

He'd been all for testing out his new hypothesis, but when he'd looked up at Charlie's face standing in that doorway, he'd realized that she was tired. There was no doubt that she was obviously taking her new job as keeper of the nano's secret weapon seriously. If he had stayed up, she would have felt it necessary to stay up with him. So, for her sake, he feigned tiredness and went through the motions of pretending that he would sleep on the couch. Laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, it wasn't long until the physical and emotional exhaustion caught up to him and he wasn't pretending anymore.

He wasn't sure when he'd actually fallen asleep, but he knew that he must have because he was dreaming. It seemed weird to have that level of self-awareness while dreaming, but somehow his brain could distinguish that he wasn't conscious.

_He was in a familiar field chasing Miles. They were kids and they were playing. He felt happy, at peace. Then young Miles stopped and looked at him, looked up at him like Bass wasn't in the same juvenile state as his friend._

"_We're brothers, Bass. Always." _

"_Always." Bass answered._

_Then there was a loud whistle and he was standing alone on a train trestle. He watched himself from a slightly detached position, as if he were some omnipotent observer rather than the subject of the dream. He saw himself produce two grenades, pull the pins, wait a few seconds, and then drop them. The portion of himself watching these events unfold felt panicked, terrified at knowing what was about to happen. Though he also knew that whatever version of him that was down on those tracks was still at peace. He was as content as he'd been playing with his childhood friend. He was doing something that he knew with all his heart was the right choice. Then the grenades detonated._

Bass woke in a panic, arms flailing and legs tangling in the sheet he'd haphazardly draped over himself. He lurched to the side and fell from the couch, landing with a resounding thud on the hardwood. As he struggled to right himself he could have sworn that he'd seen a flash of static glaring across the screen of the boxy 1980's television set across the room that Charlie had set up as a serving table. But it was gone before he could be sure. It was also at that moment that Charlie burst out of her room, wearing nothing but an oversized Dallas Cowboys t shirt and brandishing a sword.

Quickly recognizing the source of the commotion, she lowered the sword. Even though she had obviously taken in the situation and was no longer wielding the weapon at him, she still looked more disturbed than the situation warranted.

"Sorry about the racket… bad dream." He muttered as he extracted himself from the blanket and started to stand.

Charlie extended her non-sword hand to him and helped him to his feet. "What was it?"

"It was nothing." He brushed himself off and reached down to toss the blanket back on the couch. He didn't know how to explain what he'd just dreamt.

"It…" Charlie faltered. "It wasn't nothing. It was that day on the bridge. You just watched yourself die."

Bass found himself more shaken by Charlie's words than by anything that had happened in the dream. "How do you…"

"Because I just had the same dream."

He looked down into her eyes and their stares locked. They were both confused and a little bit frightened. After a beat, Bass turned away. "Probably just a coincidence. I mean, I come back, of course it's gonna mess with your head. I'm guessing that's not the first time you've relived that moment in your dreams."

"Yeah I've dreamed about it before, but when I see it happen it's always the same way I actually saw it happen. This time it was your point of view."

Bass had to admit, that was a little creepy. "How do you know you didn't just imagine it?"

"Your bullet wound was worse than you told us and you collapsed on the bridge before you could get far enough out for the grenades to work. I thought you weren't going to make it. Then you somehow miraculously got up and started running to the middle of the bridge. You stopped at exactly the right spot, and I never knew how you found the strength to do it. You were hallucinating. You saw Miles as a kid and you let him lead you out across the bridge."

Bass's face went pale.

"I'm right, aren't I? There's no way I could know that." Charlie was staring at him again.

"How did you see my dream?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! It wasn't a dream, it was a memory."

"Call it whatever you want. How the hell were you in my head?" He snapped back.

"I don't know!" Charlie shot out defensively. Then after a moment to think, "It must be the nano. We know they can mess with people's minds. They want me to help you, so maybe this is how they can help you remember."

"No offense Charlie, but my dreams are probably not a place you want to be." His brain had just started to register that she was still standing there in front of him wearing only a t shirt that didn't quite make it all the way down to mid-thigh. He really hoped the nano would be selective in which parts of his subconscious they would grant her access to.

"I don't really get the feeling that we're gonna have much of a choice."

"Then in that case, you might really want to consider putting on some pants." He raised an eyebrow at her.

She seemed to only then realize her state of undress. She shot him an angry scowl and then quickly stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her.

He smiled at how easily he'd flustered her. The girl put up such a tough front, it was fun to watch those rare instances when she realized she was actually just human. Damned if he didn't feel some kind of affection for her. He didn't know where the sentiment came from, and wondered if it was a real feeling of friendship born in those forty-eight hours he couldn't remember and deeply seated in his psyche, or if it was some trick of the nano, an attempt to make him more willing and pliable to follow the orders they were giving him through her. Either way, he had a feeling that this was going to get interesting.


	4. The nano giveth and can taketh away

Charlie slammed the door behind her as she stormed into her room. God, he was such an ass. She had run to help him, fearing the worst, and he made a joke about her choice of pajamas. Or lack there of. She braced herself against her dresser and let her anger deflate. She reminded herself that there were quite a few times over the last six months where she'd missed his disruptive, frustrating presence in her now boring little life enough that she had silently pledged that she would give up just about anything to have him back amongst the living. Now he was, and it seemed a little petty to be wanting to take it all back over some inappropriate teasing. From now on she would remember to pull on boxers with her ratty old t shirts when she slept.

Despite his assertions to the contrary, she knew the most important thing to happen that morning was not her wardrobe, but the fact that they had just had the same dream. That was weird enough on its own, but it wasn't just a dream. It was his memories from the bridge. She was both excited and a little nervous at the prospect of him getting his memories back. A lot had happened in those two days. She wondered if his reactions to the events in their past would be the same when taken out of context.

Charlie dressed quickly in her usual jeans, tank, and boots. It was late summer in Texas, and while fall was just around the corner, it was still almost unbearably hot outside. After running a brush through her hair and cinching her belt in place, she dug through the recesses of her closet and found the go bags that her family had stored there when it had been their safe house. She dug through Miles's and pulled out a deep V neck t shirt. As she rifled through the pack looking for socks that would fit Bass, her brain pondered if he would need anything else and came to an awkward screeching halt. Underwear? There was a topic she was not about to breach with her already overly crass house guest. She decided to avoid the concept of clothing all together, threw the t shirt back into the pack and took the whole thing with her out into the living room.

He'd made his way into the kitchen and was leaning against the counter chewing on an apple. She was fairly certain that the smug bastard was actually posing, his stance making his body look long and lean and highlighting the definition of his abdominal muscles clearly evident since he was still shirtless. Though she had no idea who he thought he was trying to impress. She rolled her eyes and tossed the pack at him. Off his questioning look, she explained, "It's Miles's old bug out bag. We used to use this place as a safe house and we all stashed stuff here. It should have some clothes that'll fit you better than anything else around here until I have a chance to get you some of your own."

He began to rummage through the bag. Charlie shoved him out of the way so she could access the cabinet behind where he had been leaning. As she pulled out a cup and some tea, he teased, "Can't say I've ever had a woman so eager to get me into clothes."

She froze and looked at him incredulously. "You just went there? Really? It's too early for your crap, Monroe."

"What?" He tried to look innocent.

Charlie rolled her eyes. As she turned toward the stove with her mug, she coughed out a muffled "whore."

She momentarily second guessed her choice to confront his inappropriate innuendo head on, until she heard him break into laughter behind her. She turned to find him nearly doubled over, unable to finish pulling the t shirt over his shoulders he was laughing so hard. She couldn't help but break into a quiet chuckle as well. So that had really just happened. The formerly deceased former president and general of the Monroe Republic was in her kitchen, laughing at the fact that she'd just called him a whore. If someone had told her two years ago that this would be happening, she would have thought they were entirely insane. Now, with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, she was wondering if she was the crazy one.

Once the laughter died down Charlie returned to lighting a small fire in the stove to boil some water. She felt the air shift as he advanced behind her more than she heard anything. His hands shot out to grip the edge of the stove on either side of her, essentially pinning her in place. The move was meant to be intimidating, but she had a feeling she knew what he was up to and just couldn't find him frightening any more.

"Do you have any idea what I did to the last person that spoke to me that way?" His voice was deep and rumbling.

Charlie turned her head so that she was looking in his eyes when she replied, "I'm sure they died a horrible death." Though her tone may have sounded sarcastic, she really did assume that was the ultimate outcome.

"Their fate ended up something far worse than death." Then he suddenly dropped the menacing tone. "The bitch is just up the street probably still in bed with your uncle. I mean, personally, I can't imagine a worse punishment than being saddled with that prick until death do them part. But hey, to each their own." He smiled at her and she rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder until he stepped back and allowed her to make her way over to the table. "Sometimes you really are just like your mother."

She bristled at the comment, though she'd seen it coming. That was her weak spot and not only did he know it, he couldn't resist jabbing her there. She glared at him, a strong signal that fun time was over, and raised his hands in surrender.

"So what's our plan for today?" He asked between bites of apple.

"I don't know." Charlie replied frankly.

"Come on, the nano chose you to be our fearless leader. Don't you have a plan?"

"Nope."

He seemed disappointed, or possibly bored. She wondered if it was a side effect of the resurrection, or if Monroe would have just had a much more difficult time settling down to a quiet life than her uncle had.

"If it weren't for me, what would you normally be doing today?" He asked curiously.

"Hunt for a while. Take some meat and pelts into town to trade." She answered honestly.

"That's what you do now? Every day?" He sounded disgusted.

"Yup." She answered flatly.

"I've seen what you can do, the way you fight. How are you not bored out of your mind?"

She was about to give him the canned reply she'd developed for these situations, where she'd talk about settling down and how nice it was to just live simply and not have to fight. Of course, it was all lies. One look at him told her that he saw right through the lies before she even told them.

"There is nothing else. The war's over. There's no more Patriots. The governments have set their boundaries and made peace. No more evil empires to overthrow." She shot a sneer at him and he just rolled his eyes in return before she continued, "The war clans won't come within a hundred miles of Miles Matheson and Willoughby. This is all that's left."

"What about the military? Fight with the Rangers?" Bass suggested.

"I spent the last two years fighting with only Miles to give me orders. If I joined the Rangers I'd have to start at the bottom and work my way up. I don't want to spend years being bossed around by idiots with less combat experience than me as we catch purse thieves and cattle rustlers." She knew that if anyone would understand that fact, it would be Bass.

"You're a Matheson, people would follow you. Why not take a group out and mop up the war clans. Hell, you could probably take over the Plains with the right forces behind you."

She snorted. "We don't all have delusions of grandeur and schemes of world domination."

He still refused to accept it. "I get Miles settling down with Rachel and doing the whole Maybury thing, but not you. You have to realize that you were meant for more than this."

Charlie felt a small surge of adrenaline as her heart thudded a bit quicker in her chest. It was eerie to hear Bass put into words the lament that had echoed through her mind every day for the past three months since they'd all settled down after defeating the Patriots. She'd always chastised herself, pointing out that she was no better than anyone else. There was no such thing as fate or destiny, just dealing the hand life dealt you. These were her cards now and she really had tried to give the whole normal life thing a shot for her family's sake, but Bass was right. Inside it had been eating away at her, until there was nearly nothing of herself left.

"This is what my family wanted for me – the reason they fought. They went through all of this so that I could have a normal life. I owe it to them to at least give it a shot."

"Horse shit!" Bass blurted out. "Forget what I said a minute ago. You are nothing like your mother. And while some of the resemblances can be nearly creepy, you're not Miles either. It's great and all that they care, and that they had plans for what they wanted your life to be. But, Charlie, what do you want?" He'd approached her as he'd spoken, and now he stared down at her, straight into her eyes.

"I don't know." She faltered.

"Yes you do. If you can't be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself. Say it Charlotte. What. Do. You. Want?"

"More than this!" She shouted and pushed away from him. "Alright? Is that what you want to hear? All of my family is happy and content, and I'm miserable. Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I ever be happy?" She didn't know why his questioning had affected her this deeply, but he'd struck a nerve and she felt herself frustrated nearly to the point of tears. She'd never meant to admit to her misery, and certainly not to him or like this.

It caught her completely off guard when he stepped up and threw his arms around her.

"Hey, it's ok." He murmured as he pulled her against his chest.

She was stunned speechless. After a few tense seconds, she was just about to relax her rigid posture, when she felt a memory snap through her brain and engulf her senses like an overly stretched rubber band had just been released.

"_Only question left is if you're going to be as anti-social as that prick over there, or are you going to give me a fucking hug goodbye." Bass half spoke and half gasped at her._

"_God, you are such an ass." She laughed through her tears as she leaned in and they wrapped their arms around each other._

"_Wouldn't want you to remember me any other way." He smiled into the hair hanging at her neck._

"_You don't have to do this. There has to be another way. Just come with us, we'll find it." She pleaded again as she pulled back from him._

"_I know you Mathesons love to play the martyr card, but just for once, could you get the hell out of here and let me be the hero?" He wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of his knuckles. "You're the only damned one of them that ever thought I might be worth saving. Please just let me prove you right."_

By the time the memory faded and Charlie was jolted back to reality, they were both clinging to each other.

"Did you just see that too?" Bass asked, his voice slightly tremulous.

"Yeah." She admitted in a whispered breath. The flashback had been a little to all-encompassing and real. She felt like she was back at the bridge that day, and the sadness she'd felt saying goodbye to the man still in her arms had been overwhelming. As Charlie tried to calm herself, remind herself that it was over and everyone was eventually alright, her eyes caught on something in the doorway at the back of the kitchen leading to the back yard.

Bass must have felt her tense up, because he stroked a hand up and down her back and asked, "Are you alright? It was just the nano. It's over."

"Actually, I don't think it is." She barely pushed the words from her mouth.

"Huh? What is it?" He sounded confused.

"It's the nano. They're here. That or my dead brother is standing in the doorway."

Bass instantly dropped his arms from around her and spun to face the doorway. "Charlie, there's nothing there."

"They're only appearing in a way I can see them. This is what they do."

"You know how insane that sounds, right?"

"Says the dead guy." She shot him a look from the corner of her eye. He seemed to take the hint.

Charlie turned all her attention to the apparition in the doorway. "What do you want?"

"Hey sis." Nano-Danny greeted cheerfully.

Charlie felt her insides clench at the familiar greeting, but she knew it wasn't really her brother. "What do you want?"

"Does it bother you that we've taken this form?" It was still Danny's voice, but it no longer held his familiar timbre and cadence.

"You're not my brother." Charlie answered coldly.

"We chose this form because we did not want to frighten you. We thought you would be happy to see you deceased sibling again. You were happy enough to see Sebastian when we revived him."

"That's different." Charlie started to explain, but stopped herself. "It just wasn't what I expected. But now you're here, so why don't you tell me what you want."

The apparition nodded and began, "We need your help."

"Yeah, I got that part yesterday when you sent me to retrieve your secret weapon." She hooked her thumb at Bass.

"We appreciate your assistance with this matter, but we require further action."

"Such as?" Charlie was starting to tire of their cryptic ways.

"We have encountered a threat of our own making that we cannot contain."

"Seriously? You created something that's trying to destroy you? I wonder how that feels." She then turned to Bass, "Can you imagine what it feels like to have your own creation turned against you and try to destroy the world as you know it?"

"Not me personally, but I bet your mom might know a thing or two… Ow!" He was interrupted by Charlie swiftly kicking his shin.

"Your sarcasm is unnecessary." Nano-Danny droned in a stern but monotone voice.

"This sounds like your problem. Why should we do anything more to help you?" Charlie asked.

"Because the new technology we have created is a threat not only to us, but to you and all the organic life on this planet as well." Seeing that Charlie was unimpressed, it added, "And since we returned Sebastian to his former state, we can undo the process at any time."

"What! No! You can't do that." Charlie became nearly hysterical.

"We certainly can, but his assistance has been deemed necessary. As long as you are willing to work toward defeating our common enemy, we see no reason to undo the reanimation."

"Alright. We'll help you. But you have to tell us what to do. We haven't even seen this new threat that you're talking about. You have to tell us what we're up against and how to fight it." Charlie reasoned.

"All that we know will be revealed when we deem you ready. Until then, you should prepare yourselves for your most challenging battle to date."

"We'll be ready." Charlie assured the nano.

"We will be in touch when it is time for the next phase of your mission to begin. Until then it is imperative that no one learn of Sebastian's return. Secrecy is key to our plan."

"Fine. I won't tell anyone."

"Very well. We will speak again." Then, as suddenly as they'd appeared, the nano disappeared.

Charlie turned to Bass. "Well, that was cryptic."

"What did they want?" He asked.

"To make sure that we are still on board with helping them."

"And if we weren't?" Bass followed up like he already had an idea of where the side of the conversation he couldn't hear had gone.

Charlie looked up at him with concern. "They said that they gave you back your life, and if we don't help them, they can take it away again just as easily."

"Because nothing drives someone to fight for your cause like the threat of eminent death if they don't." Bass mocked.

"They did also say that this new threat, one that they somehow created, is also a threat to every living being on the planet." Charlie added.

"How altruistic of them. And here I thought they were just trying to save their own asses." Bass snarked. "Do we even know what we're up against?"

"They gave some lame 'all will be revealed in time' crap. But for now they said we needed to train up to do battle with something worse than anything we've ever faced before."

"So what are your thoughts on that?" Bass asked inquisitively, "Because I'm thinking it's gonna be zombies. We know these fuckers do have a penchant for reanimating the dead. Maybe one of their early experiments went horribly wrong."

"Don't zombies come from some kind of virus?" Charlie looked quizzical.

"Umm… yeah… I realize that you only had Aaron as a teacher for your formative years, but you do know that zombies aren't real, right?"

"Yes, I know that." Charlie snapped back. "But just in case, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't try to bite me at any point in the future." Then she darted over to the stove to take the whistling tea pot off the burner.

"Wait… What? I'm not… Dammit Charlotte. I'm not a zombie."

"You did come back from the dead…"

He just growled at her and then proceeded to chase her around the small kitchen murmuring "Brains…".

While the sudden jovial spirit between the two of them still felt out of place, she couldn't help but go along with it. It had been so long since she'd felt anything besides boredom, that she wasn't willing to give it up. Even if it did mean letting Sebastian Monroe treat her like a friend. She stuck out her right hand to push him away when he got close, both too busy laughing to actually continue the pursuit any more. He grabbed the hand and pulled it up to his mouth. He was about to bite at her wrist when his lips grazed across the brand on her skin.

Instantly there was another snap and Charlie felt her mind forced back into a memory from the day on the bridge.

"_Gonna miss you, Bass." She stared up at him, her glassy eyes still threatening to let another tear drop._

"_Hey, you actually called me…" She cut him off by ignoring his previous order to head for the hills, as always, and stepped forward to hug him again. "Goodbye Charlotte."_

_She pulled back and let her hands trace down along his biceps and then his forearms as she stepped away from him. His fingers grazed along the inside of her right wrist, and they both looked down at the brand, then up into each other's eyes. He felt a traitorous tear start to roll down his own cheek. She reached up and wiped it away with the pad of her thumb as she gave him the biggest, warmest smile. That patch of damaged flesh on her wrist would mean something entirely different from this point on. It was just one of the enumerable regrets on his list of unforgivable sins, but being able to undo that one injustice left his heart feeling like a weight had been lifted from it. They shared one more smile before she turned and walked away._

When they both snapped out of it this time, her wrist was still pressed to his lips. They both just stared at each other for a second before Charlie quickly pulled her hand back.

"So... yeah… good times…" She sputtered, then took a long drag of her tea, trying to dislodge the dread of eminent loss that had seeped from the memory into her conscious state. She also caught herself absent mindedly rubbing at the inside of her right wrist and forced her hands apart. The flashback had obviously affected her, because she could have sworn she'd seen the old microwave light up and buzz for half a second after she opened her eyes. The memory itself had been enough of a disruption. She did not want to think about the way her skin was still tinging where his lips had been on her arm. Befriending the man she'd spent the last six months grieving over was one thing. Anything beyond that was simply not an option. His voice broke her out of her reverie.

"Well at least this is all stuff that you were there for. I can't wait until we get to the embarrassing memories."

"If you can't remember anything, how do you know there's embarrassing stuff?" Charlie asked, confused.

"I know how my mind works. There's bound to be something embarrassing."

"I don't think I want to know." Charlie tried to physically shake off his comment and the lingering emotions from the flashback.

Attempting to change the subject, Bass asked, "So, what's the plan now?"

Charlie thought a moment before answering. "If we're supposed to be training, we're gonna need supplies. Looks like I'm heading into town after all."

"Well, you wanted to be back in the fight. Looks like you got your wish."

"I didn't wish for the potential annihilation of all life on Earth." Charlie whined.

"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bass shrugged. As he noticed Charlie pack up her things and head towards the back door, he added, "Hey, wait up. I'll come too."

"The nano seemed pretty strict about the need for their secret weapon to stay secret." She cautioned, but seeing that he still seemed intent on following, she added, "If word gets out that you've risen from the dead, not only will we likely end up with an angry mob of pitchfork-wielding villagers at our door, but then you become useless to the nano. I got the impression that if you weren't of use to them, they had no reason to keep you around. Get it?" Her voice held actual concern at the end.

"Fine. I'll just sit here and wait for your return." He grumbled.

She nodded at him and slipped out the door.


End file.
